New York
A Plan for Legal Weed Shops Failed. New York Wants Its Money Back.
In 2022, Gov. Kathy Hochul pitched a $200 million effort to help small business owners with marijuana convictions open New York’s first licensed cannabis dispensaries.
State lawmakers approved $50 million to help the program, known as the Cannabis Social Equity Investment Fund, begin leasing and renovating stores that were supposed to open the following year. But just 22 of the 150 planned stores have opened since and some owners now say the state lured them into a debt trap.
The deal to set up the fund also contained a catch that largely went unnoticed until now.
Once cannabis licensing fees and sales taxes began generating enough revenue, the state would claw back its investment. Only after it was repaid would the money trickle down to programs that were intended to deliver the promised benefits of legalization, including by investing in communities battered in the decades-long war on drugs.
The provision has come to light as the governor’s budget proposal indicates that she plans to recoup the state’s funds. Lawmakers and activists who pushed for legalization say the plan goes against the state’s intention to uplift low-income Black and Latino neighborhoods where the vast majority of marijuana arrests have occurred.
Joseph W. Belluck, a lawyer who leads the state panel steering some of the cannabis revenue to affected communities in the form of reinvestment grants, said the timing couldn’t be worse as Republicans led by President Trump move to slash federal aid and destroy equity programs.
The state should figure out another way to repay itself, he argued.
“It’s not the fault of these communities or applicants that this fund failed and now has to get paid back,” Mr. Belluck said. “To ask them to bear the burden of the repayment is just completely unjust and not in the spirit of the law.”
Kassandra White, a spokeswoman for Ms. Hochul, confirmed the purpose of the payment in an email on Monday. She suggested that under the law, the governor’s hands were tied.
“Legislation was passed in 2022 to require repayment of this investment,” she said. “The state is now following that law.”
The panel Mr. Belluck leads, the Cannabis Advisory Board, was expecting a boost for the community grant program this year, after budget documents showed tax revenues from cannabis sales rising from $42.3 million in the fiscal year that ended last March to $161.8 million in the current one. Instead, Ms. Hochul’s budget plan would keep funding for the program flat, at $5 million, for the second year in a row. He said officials told him the increase he expected was going to repay the state for its investment in the dispensary fund.
The advisory board is set to start awarding grants this spring to nonprofit organizations providing services like health care and job training to young people in affected communities. But without additional funding, Mr. Belluck said the panel would not be able to support a broader range of initiatives and help people of all ages, as the law intended.
Cannabis revenues come from sales taxes paid by licensed wholesalers and consumers who shop at legal dispensaries. The state also collects licensing fees from growers, processors and sellers, as well as fines from businesses caught violating the rules.
Most of the money is used to finance regulatory operations like rule-making and enforcement against unlicensed merchants, while some goes straight to local governments that allow cannabis sales. The rest is divided equally between public schools and community grants, with a smaller portion dedicated to drug treatment and education programs.
When the dispensary fund was created, the governor said the state’s contribution would come from cannabis business licensing fees and tax revenues. But that was impossible since no sellers had been licensed yet. Instead, the state paid its portion from its main coffers.
Now, she is seeking repayment as the state’s turbulent rollout has stabilized, but programs required to deliver on the law’s justice goals remain undeveloped.
The Office of Cannabis Management, which creates and enforces the policies governing the legal market in New York, has a backlog of more than 5,000 applications for business licenses. Most of them are from people who qualify for financial assistance and mentorship that the agency is not equipped to provide, even though it is legally required to.
Heather Trela, a marijuana policy researcher at the Rockefeller Institute of Government, said the planned reimbursement “seems to be in keeping with the original intent” of the law, distributing cannabis revenues first to state agencies so they can be used to collect taxes, expunge criminal records and conduct research on cannabis use.
“Whether this is the right decision or not is up for debate by other folks,” she said.
At a budget hearing last week, State Senator Liz Krueger, the chairwoman of the Finance Committee, said she opposed using cannabis revenues to repay the state because the loan program failed under the stewardship of an outside agency, the State Dormitory Authority, which typically builds libraries, hospitals and residence halls.
In an interview, Ms. Krueger said the state should prioritize helping struggling dispensary owners and making sure the Office of Cannabis Management has the resources it needs to run the cannabis program as it was designed.
“For me, it’s about how do we make sure that these stores get out of these ridiculous deals whole enough to continue and be successful stores,” she said.
Terrence Coffie, a professor of social work at New York University, is the co-founder and executive director of the Cannabis Justice and Equity Initiative, which hosts a 16-week training program that places people from poor neighborhoods with high arrest rates for marijuana in jobs at places like dispensaries and greenhouses.
Mr. Coffie said the nonprofit hopes to win a community investment grant next year so that the program can help 1,500 people a year. He said it was important to him as someone who spent 19 years in prison to create viable opportunities in the cannabis industry for people the state punished when it was illegal.
“Because of the overall impact of anti-cannabis enforcement in Black and brown communities, we are very ambitious,” he said.
Every week since 1976, Metropolitan Diary has published stories by, and for, New Yorkers of all ages and eras (no matter where they live now): anecdotes and memories, quirky encounters and overheard snippets that reveal the city’s spirit and heart.
For the past four years, we’ve asked for your help picking the best Diary entry of the year. Now we’re asking again.
We’ve narrowed the field to the five finalists here. Read them and vote for your favorite. The author of the item that gets the most votes will receive a print of the illustration that accompanied it, signed by the artist, Agnes Lee.
The voting closes at 11:59 p.m. on Sunday, Dec. 21. You can change your vote as many times as you’d like until then, but you may only pick one. Choose wisely.
Click “VOTE” to choose your favorite Metropolitan Diary entry of 2025, and come back on Sunday, Dec. 28, to see which one our readers picked as their favorite.
Click “VOTE” to choose your favorite Metropolitan Diary entry of 2025, and come back on Sunday, Dec. 28, to see which one our readers picked as their favorite.
Two Stops
Dear Diary:
It was a drizzly June night in 2001. I was a young magazine editor and had just enjoyed what I thought was a very blissful second date — dinner, drinks, fabulous conversation — with our technology consultant at a restaurant in Manhattan.
I lived in Williamsburg at the time, and my date lived near Murray Hill, so we grabbed a cab and headed south on Second Avenue.
“Just let me out here,” my date said to the cabby at the corner of 25th Street.
We said our goodbyes, quick and shy, knowing that we would see each other at work the next day. I was giddy and probably grinning with happiness and hope.
“Oh boy,” the cabby said, shaking his head as we drove toward Brooklyn. “Very bad.”
“What do you mean?” I asked in horror.
“He doesn’t want you to know exactly where he lives,” the cabby said. “Not a good sign.”
I spent the rest of the cab ride in shock, revisiting every moment of the date.
Happily, it turned out that my instinct about it being a great date was right, and the cabby was wrong. Twenty-four years later, my date that night is my husband, and I know that if your stop is first, it’s polite to get out so the cab can continue in a straight line to the next stop.
Ferry Farewell
Dear Diary:
On a February afternoon, I met my cousins at the Staten Island Ferry Terminal. Their spouses and several of our very-grown children were there too. I brought Prosecco, a candle, a small speaker to play music, photos and a poem.
We were there to recreate the wedding cruise of my mother, Monica, and my stepfather, Peter. They had gotten married at City Hall in August 1984. She was 61, and he, 71. It was her first marriage, and his fourth.
I was my mother’s witness that day. It was a late-in-life love story, and they were very happy. Peter died in 1996, at 82. My mother died last year. She was 100.
Peter’s ashes had waited a long time, but finally they were mingled with Monica’s. The two of them would ride the ferry a last time and then swirl together in the harbor forever. Cue the candles, bubbly, bagpipes and poems.
Two ferry workers approached us. We knew we were in trouble: Open containers and open flames were not allowed on the ferry.
My cousin’s husband, whispering, told the workers what we were doing and said we would be finished soon.
They walked off, and then returned. They said they had spoken to the captain, and they ushered us to the stern for some privacy. As the cup of ashes flew into the water, the ferry horn sounded two long blasts.
Unacceptable
Dear Diary:
I went to a new bagel store in Brooklyn Heights with my son.
When it was my turn to order, I asked for a cinnamon raisin bagel with whitefish salad and a slice of red onion.
The man behind the counter looked up at me.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t do that.”
Teresa
Dear Diary:
It was February 2013. With a foot of snow expected, I left work early and drove from New Jersey warily as my wipers squeaked and snow and ice stuck to my windows.
I drove east on the Cross Bronx Expressway, which was tied up worse than usual. Trucks groaned on either side of my rattling Toyota. My fingers were cold. My toes were colder. Got to get home before it really comes down, I thought to myself.
By the time I got home to my little red bungalow a stone’s throw from the Throgs Neck Bridge, the snow was already up to my ankles.
Inside, I took off my gloves, hat, scarf, coat, sweater, pants and snow boots. The bed, still unmade, was inviting me. But first, I checked my messages.
There was one from Teresa, the 92-year-old widow on the corner.
“Call me,” she said, sounding desperate.
I looked toward the warm bed, but … Teresa. There was a storm outside, and she was alone.
On went the pants, the sweater, the coat, the scarf, the boots and the gloves, and then I went out the door.
The snow was six inches deep on the sidewalks, so I tottered on tire tracks in the middle of the street. The wind stung my face. When I got to the end of the block, I pounded on her door.
“Teresa!” I called. No answer. “Teresa!” I called again. I heard the TV blaring. Was she sprawled on the floor?
I went next door and called for Kathy.
“Teresa can’t answer the door,” I said. “Probably fell.”
Kathy had a key. In the corner of her neat living room, Teresa, in pink sweatpants and sweaters, was sitting curled in her armchair, head bent down and The Daily News in her lap.
I snapped off the TV.
Startled, she looked up.
“Kathy! Neal!” she said. “What’s a five-letter word for cabbage?”
Nice Place
Dear Diary:
When I lived in Park Slope over 20 years ago, I once had to call an ambulance because of a sudden, violent case of food poisoning.
Two paramedics, a man and a woman, entered our third-floor walk-up with a portable chair. Strapping me in, the male medic quickly inserted an IV line into my arm.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his partner circling around and admiring the apartment.
“Nice place you’ve got here.” she said. “Do you own it?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, all but unconscious.
Once I was in the ambulance, she returned to her line of inquiry.
“Do you mind me asking how much you paid for your apartment?”
“$155,000,” I croaked.
“Wow! You must have bought during the recession.”
“Yeah” I said.
They dropped me off at Methodist Hospital, where I was tended to by a nurse as I struggled to stay lucid.
At some point, the same medic poked her head into the room with one last question:
“You wouldn’t be wanting to sell any time soon, would you?”
Illustrations by Agnes Lee.
‘Part of the job’
Edwin Guity was at the controls of a southbound D train last December, rolling through the Bronx, when suddenly someone was on the tracks in front of him.
He jammed on the emergency brake, but it was too late. The man had gone under the wheels.
Stumbling over words, Mr. Guity radioed the dispatcher and then did what the rules require of every train operator involved in such an incident. He got out of the cab and went looking for the person he had struck.
“I didn’t want to do it,” Mr. Guity said later. “But this is a part of the job.”
He found the man pinned beneath the third car. Paramedics pulled him out, but the man died at the hospital. After that, Mr. Guity wrestled with what to do next.
A 32-year-old who had once lived in a family shelter with his parents, he viewed the job as paying well and offering a rare chance at upward mobility. It also helped cover the costs of his family’s groceries and rent in the three-bedroom apartment they shared in Brooklyn.
But striking the man with the train had shaken him more than perhaps any other experience in his life, and the idea of returning to work left him feeling paralyzed.
Edwin Guity was prescribed exposure therapy after his train struck a man on the tracks.
Hundreds of train operators have found themselves in Mr. Guity’s position over the years.
And for just as long, there has been a path through the state workers’ compensation program to receiving substantive treatment to help them cope. But New York’s train operators say that their employer, the Metropolitan Transportation Authority, has done too little to make them aware of that option.
After Mr. Guity’s incident, no official told him of that type of assistance, he said. Instead, they gave him the option of going back to work right away.
But Mr. Guity was lucky. He had a friend who had been through the same experience and who coached him on getting help — first through a six-week program and then, with the assistance of a lawyer, through an experienced specialist.
The specialist prescribed a six-month exposure therapy program to gradually reintroduce Mr. Guity to the subway.
His first day back at the controls of a passenger train was on Thanksgiving. Once again, he was driving on the D line — the same route he had been traveling on the day of the fatal accident.
M.T.A. representatives insisted that New York train operators involved in strikes are made aware of all options for getting treatment, but they declined to answer specific questions about how the agency ensures that drivers get the help they need.
In an interview, the president of the M.T.A. division that runs the subway, Demetrius Crichlow, said all train operators are fully briefed on the resources available to them during their job orientation.
“I really have faith in our process,” Mr. Crichlow said.
Still, other transit systems — all of which are smaller than New York’s — appear to do a better job of ensuring that operators like Mr. Guity take advantage of the services available to them, according to records and interviews.
A Times analysis shows that the incidents were on the rise in New York City’s system even as they were falling in all other American transit systems.
An Uptick in Subway Strikes
San Francisco’s system provides 24-hour access to licensed therapists through a third-party provider.
Los Angeles proactively reaches out to its operators on a regular basis to remind them of workers’ compensation options and other resources.
The Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority has made it a goal to increase engagement with its employee assistance program.
The M.T.A. says it offers some version of most of these services.
But in interviews with more than two dozen subway operators who have been involved in train strikes, only one said he was aware of all those resources, and state records suggest most drivers of trains that strike people are not taking full advantage of them.
“It’s the M.T.A.’s responsibility to assist the employee both mentally and physically after these horrific events occur,” the president of the union that represents New York City transit workers, John V. Chiarello, said in a statement, “but it is a constant struggle trying to get the M.T.A. to do the right thing.”
new video loaded: Protesters Arrested After Trying to Block a Possible ICE Raid
transcript
transcript
Protesters Arrested After Trying to Block a Possible ICE Raid
Nearly 200 protesters tried to block federal agents from leaving a parking garage in Lower Manhattan on Saturday. The confrontation appeared to prevent a possible ICE raid nearby, and led to violent clashes between the police and protesters.
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[chanting] “ICE out of New York.”
By Jorge Mitssunaga
November 30, 2025
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